


My light is electric

by spillednotes



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Sex Marathons, anal intercourse is the answer to all of your problems, this is porn simply because porn should always exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spillednotes/pseuds/spillednotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is a sex marathon, rimming, and Charles tops the hell out of Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My light is electric

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Alli, because I dragged her into this fandom. We will go down with this ship.

  
There is a dip, dark and sweat-damp, in the hollow of Erik’s right hip. Charles’ fingers are too long and elegant to fit the space perfectly; he wraps his hand around the sharp point of the bone, fingertips sliding down the curve of Erik’s pelvic bone, goosepimpled flesh coming to life underneath the whorls in Charles’ fingers.

In between a breathed, _Charles,_ and eyelashes meeting the curve of cheeks, Charles slides the fingers of his right hand into the damp hairs resting above Erik’s painfully hard dick. A pen, immobile on the bedside table, twists until the design is no longer recognizable; Charles curls his tongue around the shape of the topmost knob in Erik’s spine, rubs the ridges on the bone with his teeth, uses the thumb on his left hand to scratch over Erik’s nipple. Charles’ right hand tugs at coarse hairs slick with humidity; Erik’s toes drag over the mass of tangled sheets at the bottom of the bed, his muscles restless and reckless, the metal chain on a lamp across the room coiling and then shattering.

Black-tinted iron laces around the skin of Erik’s wrists, kisses his forearm, trembles along with Charles’ teeth, vibrations crawling up the bedframe in time with the flexing of Erik’s muscles. Sweat pools in the valley of Erik’s back, the dips above his ass damp and salty to the taste buds on Charles’ tongue. Erik tightens his fingers held still by bent metal; Charles’ hair is a mess atop his head, eyelashes clumped together from the heavy heat permeating the room. He brushes his nose down the precise part in Erik’s back, arched into a taut string thrumming under Charles’ dull fingertips, Charles’ breath ghosting over muscles sleek with perspiration; there are infinitesimal quivers in Erik’s abdomen when Charles presses the point of his nose into the crest of Erik’s ass, molds his fingers to the supple flesh, traces the rhythm of his lungs with slow sweeps of his lips. Charles’ bottom lip catches on one of Erik’s ass cheeks, trails up with the turn of Charles’ face in the interest of skirting his teeth over sparse, downy hairs.

(They’ve been in the bedroom for hours, conversation a medley of skin entwined with skin and the creak of iron deconstructing. Erik’s eyes are bright and vicious, lips swollen, the skin broken from earlier when Charles’ thighs had been thrown over Erik’s shoulders and Erik’s hips had stuttered and Charles had bitten, tugged at Erik’s lips, panted into his mouth every twitch and shake his body made.)

Charles inhales roughly, bumps his nose against Erik’s left ass cheek and strokes a thumb over Erik’s hole. One of the bed legs quakes with an ominous creak; Charles pulls away, opens his mouth to ask if maybe he’s gone too far, but Erik’s thighs spread and the bow of his back tightens into a tremulous shiver and Charles feels his blood thundering along his veins. He has to take a moment to inhale, run his fingers through the soft hairs on Erik’s thighs, watch the rise and fall of Erik’s submission to Charles’ desire; Charles digs fingernails into the stark stretch of Erik’s skin over his rib bones and drags his tongue over the puckered skin of Erik’s hole, peters out with a flirty flick.

The cadence of Erik’s breath glides with the roll of Charles’ tongue, slick, the way Charles’ body coalesces its heat with the backs of Erik’s thighs; Charles cups his fingers under Erik’s balls, swirls a fingertip against the base of Erik’s cock, hard and deliciously hot. Saliva gathers and drips down the slope of Charles’ open lips, designed to the swell of Erik’s ass cheeks; his tongue winds into Erik’s hole, stubble scratching the underside of Erik’s ass, leaving red paths that he follows with wet lips, wiggling a fingertip where his mouth has left swollen and pink. Erik’s legs twitch, muscles constricting, preparing for a fight; Charles squeezes the thick hairs blanketing the tendons in Erik’s legs, digs his tongue into Erik’s ass, quick breaths exhaling hotly and awakening the flesh underneath. Charles mouth tastes and tastes the musky depths trembling in the valley of Erik’s ass, accepts every jerk of Erik’s muscles, the ragged inhales whispering a cacophony over the blankets twisted underneath them, a sprawled map of their frantic fucking.

Only when Erik’s hole is shiny with spit and Charles’ lips are purple and plush does Charles pull away, soothe the recoil in Erik’s body with his hands. He flattens Erik’s dick, seething heat and rock hard, against the damp hairs spiraling out in tendrils below Erik’s waist. Charles breathes out a rough, Fuck, against the tense muscles in Erik’s shoulders, the undulation his back makes when Charles’ cock bumps against the shelf of Erik’s ass. Charles smooths his hands down Erik’s sides, traces the bumps of Erik’s ribs, feels pebbled skin yelling out to the corners of his mind, begging him to _touch, touch, touch, please touch, kiss and lick and suck and take, take, take, have._

The beat of Charles’ cock rattles his bones, slides under Erik’s skin, makes the bed whine. Erik isn’t prepared nearly enough and his skin is still tight under Charles hands but Charles doesn’t care, takes the roundness of Erik’s shoulder under his teeth and rolls his cock forward. Erik grunts, the bed twists out under Charles’ knees and Charles thrusts, feeds his cock into Erik’s harp-string taut body. Iron breathes with Erik’s lungs, expands the room; Charles curls fingers around the spread of Erik’s thighs and swivels his hips against the curve of Erik’s ass. A thousand and one things are said in the kinetics of bodies in motion; Charles grips Erik’s hips shifting uselessly in the air, yanks them back into the gate of his own and slams forward, aligns sharp bones to the pliant flesh of Erik’s ass.

Erik’s dick bobs between snarled bed sheets, coulee of his back spearing down, down, down, closer to the white stretched beneath him for miles on this four-poster bed they’ve marked all their own. Charles’ hips are relentless in their pursuit for pleasure, depressing his weight into the slope of Erik’s back, drinking in the pulsation of muscles restrained and drawn to the brink. Erik’s hair is dripping into his eyes, wide and viciously bright. The bed post cries out; Erik bites through his bottom lip, buries toes into the white river flowing over the sides of the bed and gives his body into the dip-swivel of Charles’ hips; Charles dances his fingers over a cock so aching the heat thrums in time with the red, red blood painting the pillowcase, smears a thumb over the wet head of Erik’s dick. Sweat swells in tendrils into Charles’ nostrils, makes the map of Erik’s skin slick and filthy, has Charles’ hand tugging roughly at Erik’s cock, swollen and gorgeous in its intensity, heavy in the concave of Charles’ palm. Erik inhales against his forearm, lips nudging faded numbers with every push of Charles’ dick; Charles shoves his thighs between Erik’s spread ones, opens them wider, fucks and fucks until the head of Erik’s cock is bumping the bed sheets with every forceful thrust.

A tickle vibrates in the corners of Erik’s head, murmurs, _Your body is mine, have me, have me,_ in Erik’s temples, expands the compression of his skin; Charles licks a scorching stripe up the back of Erik’s extended neck, tastes the salt and sweat and pure willpower holding his body suspended under Charles’ fingers, buried in Erik’s pubic hair and guiding his hips into harmony with Charles’. Metal sings in concordance with their bodies: there is a blinding moment where iron screeches all the way down to Charles’ toenails, unfurls the hands holding Charles’ mind at bay, keeping Erik’s bones firm; and then the bed turns in and scrapes the floor, tracks pathways into the hardwood with Erik’s repeated, _ah, ah, ah_ and the kick of his legs.

Charles releases his benedictions to the thick air, lets, _Fuckfuckfuck yes, God, yes,_ rain onto Erik’s pimpled skin, steers the crash of his bones into the shore of Erik’s back. They hold immobile, waves upon waves swirling through Charles’ veins and into Erik’s marrow; the bed shrieks and white catches the fall of their slick skin. Charles’ fingers twitch against the skin of Erik’s bicep.

Among wrinkles of ivory, they breathe together.


End file.
